Entering Jamma Cave — 2
“Hoooo…”
Shin Gi-woon let out a rough breath. He had spent a long stretch of time circulating his energy for the first time in ages.
Even so, the difference was unmistakable. Compared to when he had no internal energy at all, simply being able to move his body lightly felt incredible.
His Battle Demon Divine Art had also reached the second stage.
Unorthodox cultivation methods were, by nature, absolute monsters in the early stages. They made you strong fast—but the ceiling was just as clear. That was the nature of unorthodox arts. If Shin Gi-woon had grown up in an orthodox sect, he might even have been able to set his sights on the Profound Realm.
But that problem looked like it would be solved soon enough. Demonic energy would make up for the cultivation method’s lack of staying power. At the very least, he no longer needed to worry about the speed of his growth.
“Time to go.”
By the time he finished circulating his energy, a full day had slipped past. Starting today, life in Jamma Cave would begin in earnest.
He would have to keep his guard up at all times and watch his surroundings. For all he knew, he could be ambushed the moment he stepped out of his quarters.
Of course, he had confidence. This was a place where killing was permitted, after all. Anyone who came at him would be reduced to a pulp.
Creeeak.
Shin Gi-woon opened the door to his quarters and stepped out into the corridor. A silent hallway, empty of any sound.
Eyes sharp, he headed for the assembly point the instructors had named.
Whether it counted as good fortune or not, no one attacked him along the way. He did come across a few corpses, but he had little interest in people who had died for being weak. Figuring someone else would clean them up eventually, he arrived at the gathering place.
“Over here!”
Se-hwa greeted him brightly the moment she spotted him. A thought suddenly struck him—why was she being so nice to him, anyway?
He had let it slide because there was no malice in it, but it was still something he needed to clear up.
“I’ve been wondering. Why are you so good to me?”
“Hmm? Well, even without internal energy, you’re easily in the top ten of everyone here?”
“Top ten?”
“Yeah. And now that you’ve successfully built your internal energy… maybe top five?”
In other words, she had been drawn to pure skill. Se-hwa might well be the daughter of some prestigious house. The Demonic Cult supposedly had something called the Seven Demon Sects, after all.
Even at her young age, Se-hwa possessed an eye that saw through to the essence of martial prowess rather than mere internal energy reserves. Becoming friends with her didn’t seem like it would do him any harm.
“Let’s get along. Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Likewise.”
Shin Gi-woon offered his hand, and Se-hwa clasped it. In a Jamma Cave crawling with enemies, he had just gained someone he could call an ally.
Not long after that unspoken alliance formed, the instructors flung open the doors and poured in. The candidates fell silent all at once. Perhaps they all felt that what was coming had finally arrived.
Se-hwa wiped the smile from her face and focused on the instructors’ words.
“Starting today, life in Jamma Cave begins in earnest. Fifty of you have already disappeared. Good attitude.”
The chief instructor’s lips twisted. Fifty was hardly a small number—but the Demonic Cult, which lived by the creed of the strong, paid it little mind.
“I trust you’ve all taken your Dark Red Pills properly. We will now begin the one-on-one life-or-death duels!”
A murmur swept through the crowd.
At the chief instructor’s declaration, the candidates erupted into chaos—some rejoicing, others drowning in fear. Conflicting reactions crashed against each other in the same space.
“Silence, all of you!!”
The chief instructor’s roar crushed the noise flat. What replaced it was pure killing intent.
Some tried to hide themselves just to survive. Others scanned for the weak so they could scrape by. Some watched the situation with quiet confidence. And some had already started negotiating, looking to fix the matches in advance.
In the middle of that circus of human types, Shin Gi-woon looked at Se-hwa.
She smiled and nodded. The message was clear: survive, and see you tomorrow.
“The instructors will distribute red and blue flags. Those who receive red, go left. Those who receive blue, go right.”
The candidates who had been plotting fixed matches visibly flinched. The format had already been set—tricks like that wouldn’t work here.
Both Shin Gi-woon and Se-hwa drew red flags and moved into the red camp. Se-hwa, as usual, struck up a conversation.
“You can win, right?”
“What about you? Can you win?”
“Just watch. I’ll show you properly.”
She took his teasing question dead seriously. He had been joking, but Se-hwa’s skill was top-tier even within Jamma Cave. From what his qi sense told him, she was no ordinary fighter.
If I went all out to kill her… I could probably take her down with me, at least.
A clean win was impossible. He had only gained internal energy less than a full day ago—that much was only natural.
In any case, the one-on-one life-or-death duels proceeded according to the instructors’ calls. Candidates knocked unconscious before they could die were at least allowed to keep their lives and were expelled from the cave.
“Number 295, Number 53—step forward!”
After a fair amount of time had passed, an instructor called Shin Gi-woon’s number.
His opponent was a boy holding a small dagger in each hand—clearly someone walking the path of killing arts. The way he swaggered around brought to mind some back-alley thug.
The little bastard looked like he had no manners at all.
“Sorry in advance. I’ll kill you without the pain.”
“With your skill, I figure you’ll feel every kind of pain there is before you croak.”
“What did you just say?”
Number 53’s voice dropped low as he tried to provoke. Shin Gi-woon casually flipped the taunt right back at him.
An assassin, by nature, was a martial artist who ended an enemy’s life quickly and cleanly. Saying he would feel every kind of pain was the same as saying he had no skill as an assassin at all—and that made it the perfect insult for Number 53.
“A guy who’s only had internal energy for a single day is trying to provoke me?”
“You started the provocations, buddy. For someone using killing arts, that tongue of yours sure is long. Thinking of switching to yin arts?”
“You little—!!”
Number 53 ground his teeth hard enough to crack them. He still couldn’t move—the signal to start the duel hadn’t come yet.
The sight of him was really something…
“You look like a dog that needs to take a shit.”
“You rotten bastard. Don’t think you’ll die easy—”
“That’s enough idle chatter.”
Of all times, the instructor cut Number 53 off mid-sentence. The boy stood there blank for a moment—then, as the instructor’s hand rose toward the sky, he began pouring out killing intent as if he were about to avenge his parents’ murder.
“Any last words?”
“You crazy bastard!”
“Begin!”
BOOM!
The instructor announced the start of the duel. Number 53 used his specialty and erased his presence.
If Shin Gi-woon hadn’t been ready for it, he might have lost track of the movement—but the instincts of a man who had rolled and tumbled through the martial world for years weren’t about to miss Number 53.
Stupid bastard. He doesn’t even realize I’m already behind him!
Having hidden his presence, Number 53 took up position at Shin Gi-woon’s rear, like a wildcat stalking prey. Creeping carefully until he was right on top of him, Number 53 thrust his dagger toward the heart—cautious, but swift.
“Too slow.”
“..!”
But Shin Gi-woon had already read the movement. The instant Number 53 extended his arm, he spun.
Attacker and defender switched places in a heartbeat. And the opening left by Number 53’s failed strike was, to Shin Gi-woon, a feast laid out and waiting.
Whoooosh!
“Thanks for the meal!”
“Gah—!”
Shin Gi-woon’s spear tore through Number 53’s side. Even as blood sprayed, Number 53 forced himself to stay focused. If he let himself get dragged along by this momentum, he was going to die—
Huh?
That was when Number 53 realized it. From within Shin Gi-woon’s shadow, a colossal demon was looking down on him.
Killing intent that surpassed even his own, trained as he was in the killing arts. The form of a battle demon that hated the world itself.
Number 53’s feet locked in place as if he had sunk into a swamp.
Simply being exposed to another person’s killing intent had frozen his entire body solid.
Shin Gi-woon did not miss it. The moment he confirmed that Number 53 had stopped moving—
“Delicious. Thanks for the meal.”
SHUNK!
He drove his spear forward without hesitation and pierced Number 53’s heart clean through.
Completely defenseless, Number 53 took the full force of the spear strike and collapsed, coughing up blood.
“Number 295 wins!”
The duel was decided in an instant. Shin Gi-woon had been thinking his opponent was simply too easy—but over where the blue-flag candidates had gathered, people began whispering as if something was off.
The voices were very quiet, but from what he could make out, it went something like this:
“Insane… he just casually beat a kid trained by the Killing Demon Sect?”
“What the hell is that guy?”
“His mouth is no joke either. If I’d been in that spot, I don’t think my head would’ve stayed straight.”
Number 53 had been from the Killing Demon Sect—one of the Seven Demon Sects. For someone with that background, he had died far too easily.
Maybe I should’ve taken it easy.
He had just lazily leaked a bit of killing intent and the kid’s legs locked up. And this was supposed to be the Killing Demon Sect?
Even if someone of that level had become an assassin, he would have been bottom-of-the-barrel trash anyway. Maybe dying now was the better option for him. Shin Gi-woon had hoped to loosen up a little, but there had been no chance of that.
Still carrying that faint disappointment, he returned to his camp—and found a different kind of gaze gathering on him than before.
Is it really something to stare at this hard?
The looks held all kinds of emotions. The main ones were shock and wariness. Some people watched his movements and sank into deep thought. And the only person whose expression didn’t fall into any of those categories was—
“Nice work. I told you you were strong, didn’t I?”
—Se-hwa, and Se-hwa alone.
“Yeah. Didn’t expect the opponent to be that weak, though.”
“I don’t think a single other person here would put it that way…”
“Number 7, Number 19—step forward!”
“Ah, that’s me! Be right back!”
“Go for it.”
Before their conversation could even finish, the instructor called her number and she stepped forward.
So she was Number 7.
Alright. Let’s see what she’s got.
Time to find out just how strong Se-hwa—who had been talking such a big game—really was.